


The Price of Duty

by athersgeo



Category: Airwolf
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-21
Updated: 2009-12-21
Packaged: 2017-10-04 20:39:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/athersgeo/pseuds/athersgeo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Michael has some thinking to do in light of Moffat's betrayal</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Price of Duty

**Author's Note:**

  * For [debirlfanirlfan](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=debirlfanirlfan).



Leg up. Leg down.

It was a simple exercise. Each repetition of it brought his release from these magnolia-covered walls just a tiny fraction closer, but that didn't make Michael like it any more. It was a simple exercise and approximately as dull as ditch water.

Leg up. Leg down.

Possibly even more dull. He might just have to investigate that, just as soon as they let him go from here and he'd wrapped up the Moffat problem.

Leg up. Leg down.

He knew he shouldn't complain. He was one of the lucky few, after all. He'd realised, just a fraction before the shooting began, what Moffat was about to do. He'd tried to call out a warning, but that fractional warning was good only for saving his and Marella's necks.

Leg up. Leg down.

For all the good it had done either of them. Marella was still too ill to have even left her hospital bed, while he probably shouldn't have done so either. But that was one of the perks of being the boss: what did his health matter when compared to the prospect of an ultra secret super-weapon in the hands of someone as unstable as Moffat?

Leg up. Leg down.

Besides, it could be argued that the situation was, largely, his own fault. After all, he was the one who had signed off on Moffat's involvement beyond the purely theoretical stages. He could have kicked Moffat off the team once the design specs had been completed. Elements on the Committee were beginning to question why he hadn't.

Leg up. Leg down.

Truth told, he was questioning why he hadn't, too. It wasn't as if – unlike the Committee – he'd been ignorant of Moffat's past. Of the string of dead girls at White Sands and the rumours of his treacherous leanings. So why hadn't he?

Leg up. Leg down.

Sheer cussedness, possibly. After all, hadn't Hawke issued a 'him or me' ultimatum?

Leg up. Leg down.

That was going to be a hell of a lot of crow to swallow. Because there was no other way of going after Moffat but to get back Airwolf's first test pilot. The Committee would have coronaries at the thought. So would Hawke, come to think.

Leg up. Leg down.

And that, of course, assumed that they were able to track where Moffat had flown to.

Leg up. Leg down.

There were plenty of options on that score. There were rogue states the world over who would kill – quite literally – to have their hands on Airwolf, even with Moffat in control. The Soviets themselves probably wouldn't, but many of their satellites would. And then there were the countries that had hitched their colours to the Soviets' mast without actually becoming Communist. There, also, were the nominal allies who not so secretly loathed American technological supremacy. Hell, even friendly countries wouldn't say no to Airwolf – though they, at least, might have the good taste to say no to Moffat.

Leg up. Leg down.

Running through that list, though, there was one place that jumped up to the top. Libya. Colonel Muammar Al-Gaddafi was just about mad-dog enough to both pay Moffat's price and think himself immune from reprisals.

Leg up. Leg down.

Moffat and Gaddafi in bed together. It was a terrible, terrifying thought, if true.

Leg up. Leg down.

The question was, how could he prove it? For all that Gaddafi was dubiously sane, he kept his security tight and just getting assets into the country was considered too risky for the usually paltry information gains. But if that was where Airwolf had gone then that was where assets had to go too.

Leg up. Leg down.

The first order of business, then, would be going over radar traces and ATC logs. While Airwolf could – and did – run radar silent and supersonic, she didn't have bottomless fuel tanks. She had been scheduled to have just enough for the demonstration flight at Red Star with a little in reserve, just in case. He had to assume Moffat had probably changed that order, but even so he would have had to refuel somewhere. And then there were pilot logs. Someone would have laid eyes on Airwolf on her journey out of the country. It would just be a matter of tracking that information down.

Leg up. Leg down.

The trouble was, his best operative was Marella and she wouldn't be collating data and digging up information for him any time soon.

Leg up. Leg down.

Faye Chen was a possibility, at least to get the investigation started while he was still stuck in this magnolia coloured prison. She had contacts in France, too. She'd be able to work out a route to get people into Libya, if that did prove to be where they were needed.

Leg up. Leg down.

He'd need an aide, though. Even once he was out of this place, he would still be impaired. His shoulder still had another six weeks of healing to go, and then there was the loss of his eye.

Leg up. Leg down.

"That's enough, Director."

Michael looked up at the physical therapist, who was looming over him. "It's not enough. I have to be able to get out of here, and soon."

The therapist smiled a practiced, placating smile. "And you will be able to, soon. But it won't do you any good to over do the exercise."

Petulantly, Michael did one last repetition – leg up, leg down – and then condescended to let the therapist remove the weights from around his ankle. Once that was done, he expected the therapist to help him back onto the bed, but to his surprise, the therapist made no move to do so.

"You have a visitor," said the therapist by way of an explanation. "Thought you'd like to demonstrate improvement by greeting them sitting up instead of lying down."

"A visitor?" That was nothing to celebrate in Michael's opinion. Since coming round, he'd had no end of those – mostly men in suits from the various other agencies demanding to know what had happened, what had gone wrong and, most of all, what the hell he was doing about fixing it.

"She didn't give a name," said the therapist. "But she's a looker."

"Well that certainly narrows it down," Michael muttered, but the therapist had already left and he could now hear the approaching tap-tap-tap of a pair of women's heels. He had just enough time to adjust his robe in an effort to maintain his directorial dignity before she arrived.

"Good to see you, Michael."

"Faye." He mustered a smile. "You were always good at knowing when to make an entrance."

Faye Chen offered an enigmatic smile of her own. "I had a good teacher," she stated, inclining her head.

"I need you to take the lead on the Airwolf investigation," said Michael. "Just while I'm still stuck here."

Faye nodded. "Already done. Zeus pulled me back from Europe when Moffat made his move. I've been here nearly a week."

Michael stared for a moment. "Nice of him to keep me in the loop."

"You might be prepared to act against medical advice," said Faye with some asperity, "but Zeus doesn't have the luxury."

"I suppose not." Michael brushed a hand over his moustache. "If you're here to see me, I assume you've made some progress."

"We've found her."

"Libya?"

"Libya."

Michael nodded slowly. Exactly as he'd feared. "Then I need you to do me a favour."

From behind her back, Faye produced a suit bag. "I assumed you'd be signing out AMA once you knew. I also assume that you'll be going to see Stringfellow Hawke, so I've taken the liberty of arranging for Gabrielle Ademaur to be ready to shuttle you up to his cabin."

Michael slowly lifted an eyebrow. "Am I getting to be predictable in my old age?"

Faye just smiled enigmatically.

"In that case, if you would be so kind as to find a doctor to produce the paperwork, I will get changed and we can move one step closer towards reclaiming Airwolf."

Faye nodded once, set the suit bag down on the bed and departed to do as he'd asked.

Michael eyed the bag for a moment. He was insane to be thinking this. He should allow the hospital staff more time to help him heal so that he could deal with Moffat personally. On the other hand, if he didn't do this now, who knew what the implications would be for national security. Time, then, to do his duty and hope that it didn't end up costing more than he could pay.


End file.
